


Learning to breathe

by Rogersruinedmylife



Series: Räikkönen Entertainment [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Accidental Confession, Budding Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Mental Health Discussions, Panic Attacks, descriptions of panic attacks, found family#, lando has the best friends, panic disorder, protective friends, sad Lando Norris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogersruinedmylife/pseuds/Rogersruinedmylife
Summary: At thirteen Lando had his first panic attack.As long as he could keep composing, guitar or keyboard by his side and ink stains down his hands from frantically writing lyrics, Lando knew he would be okay.However he never expected that at the age of twenty a retired musical legend who’s poster had once been on his wall would stumble across his and his friends music channel on YouTube, offering them the chance of a life time and unfortunately screwing with the careful balance Lando had long establish for dealing with his disorder.Luckily for Lando, as he would discover, his friends would always find a way to make sure he was never alone in his struggle.
Relationships: Alexander Albon & Lando Norris & George Russell, Charles Leclerc & Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Kimi Räikkönen/Sebastian Vettel, Lando Norris & Max Verstappen, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr, Nicholas Latifi/George Russell
Series: Räikkönen Entertainment [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904314
Comments: 4
Kudos: 90





	Learning to breathe

The first time Lando had a panic attack he was thirteen.

He had woken up that morning feeling as if there was a weight on his chest. Something pressure down on his lungs making every breath feel like a chore. He had spent breakfast rubbing a hand over his chest, sleepily spooning Cheerios’ into his mouth, hoping the weird pressure would dissipate.

His mother had run a hand through his curls, frown on her face as she laid a hand on his forehead, noticing how pale and withdrawn the normally energetic teen was this morning. Lando could recall that he didn’t even laugh when one of his younger sisters had tried to leave for school with her pinafore on backwards and shoes on the wrong feet.

Instead he had been too busy looking over his shoulder, chewing on the sides of his fingers as the pressure in his chest grew larger and larger as he walked towards the front door.

His father had hugged him goodbye as they made their way to his mothers’ car for school drop off, squeezing his shoulder and wishing him luck.

The feeling grew overwhelming as he sat in the back with his sisters, listening to his brother and mother talk in the front of the car.

His hands were sweaty. He felt overall warm and yet at the same time he felt the hairs on his arms stand up as if he were chilled.

Lando had barely register his mother helping his sisters out of the car and to the gates of their school. Instead he was focused on clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to breathe through the pressure and ignoring the black spots that had started to dart around his vision.

It wasn’t until they had pulled up to his and Oliver’s school that and his mother was looking back at him worriedly that Lando noticed he wasn’t breathing properly.

The weight on his chest had constricted his lungs, leaving him shaking and gasping out stuttered breathes as he gazed in panic and horror at the look on his mother and brothers face.

Oliver had gone pale, climbing into the back seat to take one of Lando’s hands from where he had unconsciously clenched into a fist one more, nails biting into the skin of his palm.

He could see Oliver and his mother’s lips moving, calling his name but it was as if he had entered a tunnel. All he could hear was the whooshing gasps of his own lungs struggling to fight what felt like a hand having grabbed his lungs and squeezed until they could no longer function.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt himself being pulled against someone’s chest, a hand on his own, encouraging him to follow the breathing pattern of the person against his back while another massaged his hands gently.

It felt like hours had passed by the time Lando could feel himself breathing and the whooshing receded.

‘That’s it baby, follow my breathing’, his mother hummed softly, ‘You’re doing so good, Lando, just keep breathing’.

‘I…I feel like I’m dying’, Lando cried, not caring that Oliver was still in the car, holding his hands, ‘I don’t want to…to die Mamma’.

A kiss was pressed to his hair as she held him close, hand rubbing over his chest that now ached in the absence of the weight that had been crushing his chest.

‘You’re not going to die baby, I promise’, she sounded so sure that Lando could only relax further, refusing to look at his brother out of embarrassment.

Neither Oliver or Lando had made it to school that day.

Instead their mother had brought them to see the family’s GP, Oliver sitting supportively by Lando’s side as he had stuttered through what had happened. The pressure that he had felt upon waking up, the feeling of dying from not being able to breath, the weight that had crushed his chest and the panic that had bubbled under his skin.

It was the first time he had ever heard of a panic disorder as the doctor talked him through the definition, putting words to the odd feelings that Lando had gotten since he was younger but brushed off as being nerves.

He had left that day with a page of information and a phone number that his mother had later called, setting up the first therapy session Lando would endure in his lifetime.

The panic of the day was always burning in the forefront of his mind through the sessions that would help him craft methods to deal with the panic if it rose, and ways to manage his triggers as he stumbled across them.

Knowing what was going on inside his brain and how to cope when he woke with a weight pinning him to the bed or a crowd got too close and he felt that harsh grasp of a phantom hand around his lungs.

Lando had accepted by the time he was turning fourteen, turning compositions in under a pseudonym only known to an older teen by his real name, that this was a disorder he could live with.

As long as he could keep composing, guitar or keyboard by his side and ink stains down his hands from frantically writing lyrics, Lando knew he would be okay.

However he never expected that at the age of twenty a retired musical legend who’s poster had once been on his wall would stumble across his and his friends music channel on YouTube, offering them the chance of a life time and unfortunately screwing with the careful balance Lando had long establish for dealing with his disorder.

Luckily for Lando, as he would discover, his friends would always find a way to make sure he was never alone in his struggle.

*

The first person outside of his family to ever witness his panic attacks had been Max.

Max had been a friend, and sometimes rival, in junior musical composition competitions that Lando had often entered before the crowds and pressure began to manifest into triggers for his panic.

Max had been understanding when Lando had stepped away from the competitions, having been in Lando’s life since he was ten years old and barely bigger than the guitar, he would use to compete against Max.

When they had first met when Lando was ten, he had regarded the Dutch man as cold, aloof and untouchable.

The older had always had this air about him that made himself seem older than the two years between them. Even at twelve Max had been this big name, awe inspiring, a role model that other young composers looked up to and were afraid to approach.

Lando had thought similarly until he watched Max trip over his own amp chord in a practice room, falling headfirst into the wall in order to protect his guitar from falling from his grasp. Lando had been unable to contain his giggle, drawing the others attention as an embarrassed flush filled Max’s pale cheeks. Lando had stepped forward to help untangle the others foot, only to get similarly caught in the chord, falling and prompting the Dutch boy to join him in a laughing heap on the floor.

They had spent an hour talking and laughing, swapping gamertags and comparing scars on their hands from when guitars chords had snapped, cutting into their skin.

They had been inseparable ever since. Constantly in contact and making plans to meet up around Max’s commitments as his fame grew and grew in his teenager years and Lando stepped away from competitions and auditions to focus on his mental health.

Despite having had multiple discussion with Lando, even been told how to help him through an attack by Cisca during one of their rare sleep overs, Max had never seen Lando being triggered.

That was until Lando was sixteen.

Max had just hit eighteen, moving from Monaco to London permanently after signing with a new agency and filing a restraining order against his father.

To celebrate his new freedom, Max had invited Lando, George and Alex to one of his first concerts under his new management. The trio watching from one of the balcony boxes at the venue, away from the crowd but with perfect view and room to jump around to the sight of their friend owning the stage as he always did.

Lando had told Max he would make an appearance at the after party. Max had promised it was just going to be a few company people, other clients of Räikkönen Entertainment and friends of Max’s from school and the industry. He had reassured Lando that the venue was spacious, and he would be there if anything had happened.

The first hour had been bearable. Lando had stuck to a table away from the main crowd and makeshift dance floor. George and Alex had stayed with him until Alex managed to catch the eye of a model he had known from school and George had managed to chat up someone at the bar.

Lando had tried to find Max in the crowd of bodies, wanting to congratulate his best friend before catching one of the taxi’s outside the venue and heading home to decompress as the panic began to bubble having lost sight of his three friends.

Someone had pressed up against him as he wandered passed the dance floor, another grabbing his wrist pulling further into the crowded dance floor and the panic had gripped him. He tried to move out of the crowd, but the music was deafening, his friends out of sight and the bodies kept pressing against him.

Lando didn’t know how he ended up on the floor of the coating room after managing to fight out of the dance floor. All he could feel was the weight on his chest and the trembling of his hands as he squeezed his eyes shut, burying his head between his knees and tried to take deep breathes like he had been taught.

He hadn’t even noticed there was another body squeezing into the tight space until headphones covered his ears, the soothing voice of his favourite podcast hosts filling his ears. A hand settled on his shoulder, tapping one to breath in and twice for Lando to let go in familiar pattern until Lando’s breathing regulated and he relaxed sideways into the body beside him.

Once the pounding in his ears and chest had stopped Lando had opened his eyes, tilting his head to discover Max staring at him worriedly, lifting a hand to tussle Lando’s hair before Lando shakily lifted the earphone off his head.

‘I’m so sorry’, Lando choked out, feeling a tendril of panic grip him again at the voice in his head at having ruined Max’s night.

Max scowled at him, tugging Lando’s ear, ‘Mate shut up. There’s nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad I found you’.

Lando ignored his friend’s words, bringing a hand to his lips, pulling at the skin beside his nail with left over nerves, ‘I ruined your after party because I can’t act normally’.

‘Lando’, Max sighed, pulling his younger friend closer, ‘You didn’t ruin shit. You had a panic attack because you were triggered, I’d rather be sitting here in this closet making sure you’re okay than out there listening to George strike out with the new intern’.

Lando snorted, enjoying the closeness of his friend despite the less than ideal setting of the musty cloak room closet.

He watched as Max pulled out his phone, typing out a quick text as the light of the screen lit the dim closet. His phone pinged with a message in return to whatever he had sent.

‘Come on’, Max said, disentangling them and pulling Lando to his feet, ‘We’re going back to mine to eat junk that my trainer will yell at me for and so I can kick your ass at FIFA’.

‘Max, no, this is your night, I can’t ask you to leave cause my brain is shit mate’, Lando protested as Max peaked into the hallway, checking if it was clear like he had when they were ten and twelve and hiding from Jos.

‘Not making me do anything mate’, Max smiled, pulling Lando out into the hall and throwing his arm over his shoulder, ‘I’m bored of everyone wanting Max Verstappen. I’d rather just be Max and hang out with my best friend’.

Lando had bit his lip to hide his smile, leaning a bit more into his friends’ side before racing through the halls like the children they still were and bursting into giggles once they hit the night air.

*

Lando couldn’t help but fiddle with the straw in his coke, knee shaking under the table and eyes darting around the café that they had agreed to meet in.

His anxiety was at an all time high. He couldn’t stop fidgeting or fixing his shirt, wishing that he was back home wrapped in the soft hoodie Max had gotten him for his birthday and recording for Twitch or Youtube.

Instead he was watching as Alex and George collected drinks from the orders counter, bantering back and forth as if they didn’t have a care in the world while Lando felt he was going to fall apart at any second.

In fifteen minutes, they would be meeting with the heads of one of the biggest entertainment companies based in London about possibly signing with them.

Lando’s anxiety came from the fact that while George and Alex reassured him that it was all of them or nothing. That they were happy to remain on Youtube building a fanbase and posting what they wanted, Lando was holding them back.

In the last year their channel gained a lot of attention for their covers and more so for the compositions that Lando had written with George and Alex contributing to the lyrics. Some of their original works had gone viral, drawing the eyes of agents and record labels that wished to sign them.

The only thing holding them back was the fact that Lando had been open with interested parties about his panic disorder. Even linking them to a video he had done on their channel talking about his struggles with his disorder and how he copes in daily life. He felt he had to make them aware that sometimes he would have problems with crowds, and there would be some days that he couldn’t step outside his door because he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The answers they had received had always been the same: George and Alex could be signed. A duo would be formed and Lando offered a position behind the scenes. He wouldn’t get to sing. He would be the shadow man, a composer on retainer for the duo and others.

They had apologised to him. Stating simply that it would be too much of an ask to accommodate his needs while trying to establish their group as proper band.

Lando had been ready to step back, having seen the excitement on George and Alex’s face every time they got an offer. He wanted them to be happy and knew it was their dream to put out actual albums rather than barely making enough to cover rent from Youtube videos.

Every time they had turned them down, George glaring down executives stating it was all of them or none and insisting they leave with their heads high because there was no group without Lando.

Max had promised Räikkönen Entertainment was different, having spent all morning on the phone talking Lando down from a panic attack, but that didn’t stop the shaking of Lando’s hands when he shook the hand of Kimi Räikkönen and Sebastian Vettel as the retired pop star smiled brightly at them before taking a seat across from them.

George had placed Lando in between him and Alex, providing Lando with two solid pillars of comfort. His arm thrown across the back of Lando’s chair, tapping a gentle rhythm in a way that made Lando want to cry at how sweet his friend was.

Alex had a free hand circled around Lando’s wrist that rested on his thigh under the table, thumb pressing gently into the pressure point in his wrist in a grounding gesture.

Lando focused on following the rhythm of Georges taps as Sebastian began to make small talk, George and Alex throwing witty but polite comments back at them, charming the older men with their cheek and confidence while Lando smiled shyly.

‘Before we talk about any possible relationship between us and your company or you make an offer towards signing or helping us, there’s something we need to say’, Alex’s firm tone pulled Lando from his shell, drawing his eyes curiously to his friends who were now sitting straighter and looking more serious.

He could feel his panic bubbling, Alex pressing firmer against his wrist noticing the hitch in his breathing.

‘We started this channel together at seventeen. We have grown our viewers, published works we have cried over. All as a trio’, George stated firmly, glancing at the two men before them, ‘If you have no intention of taking us as we are then we would rather thank you for meeting us right now and get along with our days’.

Sebastian’s face scrunched in confusion, sitting back slightly at the defensive stance Alex and George were taking before they had even made it passed small talk.

Lando, who had caught onto what his friends were doing, looked down at his lap, feeling overwhelmed by his friend’s protectiveness.

‘Why wouldn’t we want to sign all three of you? If we had intentions of asking one of you to join us, we wouldn’t have been as cruel as to invite you all to this meeting’, Sebastian questioned gently.

George squeezed Lando’s shoulder gently, moving his hand to tap a rhythm on Lando’s collarbone like Max had all those years ago, catching the eye of Kimi who had yet to speak.

‘It has happened before’, Alex replied, glancing at Lando, ‘We met with Christian Horner and Mattia Binotto at different times. Both of them only wanted to sign us, not Lando’.

‘They told us Lando was a liability’, George smiled sharply, ‘We told them to fuck off’.

Sebastian was clearly confused, looking at his partner before returning his gaze to the trio in front of him, to Lando specifically who seemed to shy away from the attention.

Nobody uttered a word for a moment, awkward tension building until Kimi leant forward, catching Lando’s eye as he spoke gently.

‘Fuck them’, Kimi stated simply, ‘Your anxiety does not make you a liability. I want all of you with my company. This is not a deal breaker for us.

Lando could feel his friends relax either side of him, his own chest easing from the panic that had been gripping him all morning as he let out a sigh of relief.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Sebastian tucking three contracts with drying ink into the folder he had brought with him, a bright smile on his face and a fire in his eyes that had been there since Alex and George had revealed why they had spoken so brashly.

‘You have some really amazing friends’ kid’, Sebastian smiled as he shook Lando’s hand once more before leaving with a promise of giving them a tour of the company within the next few days.

As George and Alex tugged him into a group hug, barely containing the excitement of having made the next step towards their dreams coming true, Lando couldn’t have agreed more as he hugged them closer.

*

Joining Räikkönen Entertainment had been the bets decision Lando had ever made.

From day one, Sebastian had sat down with Lando and asked him how they could help him with his panic disorder. He had listened, taking notes when Lando had been honest with him, telling him that although he had some triggers, a lot of the time his panic came without warning and caught him off guard.

And that was exactly what happened during one photoshoot.

One-minute Lando had been joking with Nicky as the make-up artist fixed the highlight on his cheeks, gently turning Lando’s head as he needed.

The next he had been posing, the directors hands jerking his limbs into the positions needed for the perfect shot and suddenly the flash of the camera was all Lando could focus on as he froze.

There was no trigger. No crowd of people. Lando could count the amount on one hand including himself of who was in the spacious room.

There was no incident or worry on his mind to set off the panic but still it was there.

He hadn’t even noticed at first that he had frozen.

It was as if the air had pulled from his lungs, leaving him in the position he had been guided into.

Later, Nicky would tell him that within a few seconds the colour had drained from Lando’s face despite the make-up. That he had gone still, but they could see his chest moving rapidly and his hands tremble before he let out a little gasp.

The attack had been mild, lasting a few minutes in which no one knew what to do. George and Alex had finished their shoots earlier, having head to the lounge to relax.

There was no one in the room that knew how to bring him out of the attack and Lando had to painfully dragg his own breathing back to normal. He had to close his eyes and visualise a pattern, resetting his body until he was able to stumble to his feet, asking the director if it was okay if they took a break, exhausted washing over him along with the shame and embarrassment of having an unprovoked attack.

The director had nodded, giving them thirty minutes and Lando was moving before anyone could ask him if he was okay. His legs carrying him quickly out of the studio and up a few flights of stairs to the small garden area on the balcony of the top floor where he curled up on a bench, biting his nails.

He itched to text Max or the boys to come get him. To call Sebastian like the other man had told him he could do and ask him to take him home.

He wanted to cry, wanted scream about the fact that he couldn’t control how his mind and body betrayed him at times and how it kept burdening everyone with his bullshit.

‘You know I get them too?’, a gentle voice pulled Lando out of his down word spiral as a tear began to escape despite his best efforts.

‘I know how it feels to think you’re a burden on everyone for not being able to control something like this’, Charles Leclerc smiled shyly, sitting down beside Lando and offering him a tissue and a bottle of water.

‘You…you get them too?’, Lando’s voice was quiet and raw from the tears and emotions swirling inside him.

Charles simply nodded, turning sideways with his back against the edge of the bench and pulling his knees up to his chest.

‘Being a child star was hard. I had to act, speak and behave in a strict code or I would lose pay checks or they would threaten to fire me’, Charles admitted, picking at a hole in the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing, ‘I developed an anxiety disorder that fed into a panic disorder as a result of the pressure. I start acting at four, and by ten I was singing and modelling. It was too much, but I felt like a burden whenever it happened, like it was my fault’.

Lando nodded, relief obvious knowing someone understood what was going on inside his head.

‘It just feels like I’m letting everyone down sometimes’, Lando admitted, ‘There wasn’t even anything to set this off. It was a fun shoot and suddenly I can’t breathe, my brain thinks it’s dying and all I can think about is how I’m making those poor people wait on me to get my shit together so they can do their jobs’.

Charles hummed, holding his hand out for Lando to take, squeezing the youngers fingers in his.

‘I know George and Alex, even Max and Kimi probably tell you all the time that you’re not a burden or a problem, but I want you to know you’re not alone’, Charles smiled, tugging Lando closer to lean against his knees.

‘I just feel fucked up, like everyone is normal and here’s me’, Lando admitted, resting his head on Charles knees.

Charles let out a laugh as he moved a hand to play with Lando’s curls despite the hairspray having stiffened them.

‘We can be fucked up together’, Charles smiled cheekily, ‘Fuck normal Lando, you and me are perfect as we are, screws lose and all’.

Lando couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him at how ridiculous the Monegasque man was as he got make-up all over the others probably very expensive and designer jeans.

‘Do you want me to come back with you? It might help if it happens again to have a friend who understands there?’ Charles offered as Lando’s phone beeped with a call from Nicky to return to the studio.

Lando nodded, letting Charles drag him back to the studio by the hand, telling him about a prank he had set up for Max when the singer was due in the gym later that day, feeling less alone than he had in years.

It was like a weight had been lifted from him like it had when his other friends had been understanding of his disorder, except this time he could see the same relief reflected in Charles’s eyes.

They finally had people who truly understood just how draining it was.

*

Having friends that were always willing to help him, bosses that worked with him instead of against and someone he could finally talk to and relate to about his disorder had left Lando feeling more confident than he had in years.

Charles had been working with him on getting them both to stop apologising for something that was beyond their controls at times. They had a scheduled date every Thursday that Checo and Daniel tried to keep free for them unless they had to be at events out of London or the country where they just talked about these things.

He had learned to give himself a break from the guilt that had been eating at him since his first panic attack at thirteen when he had terrified his mother and brother.

He found himself handling crowds better, knowing when to make a polite excuse to step away from the press or other celebrities at events to give himself some air before re-joining the fray of people.

Esteban had begun working calming exercises into their work outs without explicitly stating they would possibly help bring down a panic attack. Instead he posed it as a calm down session after their work outs, even prompting Kevin to use them for when George, Alex and he had dance practice with the Dane.

It was a few months after he joined the company with his friends and in the week leading up to the album launch for their first full length official album that Lando finally felt something inside himself settle as he was looking for his friends.

Lando had locked himself in a recording studio with his favourite guitar and notebook filled with scribbled lyrics and the hint of a melody in his mind.

It had kept him up all night and he had wanted to pin down the idea before it was lost in the haze of the week as the edged closer to the event.

Lando had only stopped when his fingers stung from the strings and his stomach cramped with a need for food, seeking out his friends to go grab some lunch and maybe some tea to relax after hours in the studio.

Instead of stumbling across Max cuddling Daniel in the lounge, or George trying to flirt with an exasperated Nicky while Lance and Alex watched, he instead found himself outside one of the conference rooms listening to the voice that drifted out the door.

‘I’ve sent you all a map of the venue with exits and balconies marked’, Sebastian’s voice carried from the room.

‘Sometimes it helps Lando if he can get away from the noise and just stand out in the open’, Charles’s voice added, ‘It helps me as well. Fresh air takes away the hot flush, makes it easier to come down from an attack. If Lando gets overwhelmed, take him to one of the marked exits.

Hearing Charles speaking openly about his disorder after hiding it for so long made Lando smile with pride. They had both come so far from that time in the garden area.

‘Keep headphones in your pocket. I’ve sent you a link to a Spotify podcast he likes’, Max’s voice was next to reach Lando ears as he leaned against the wall, letting the fact that these people cared so much about his well being that they were willing to learn about what helped him wash over him.

‘Should we really be talking about this without him hear?’, Carlos could be heard nervously asking.

‘We decided to call this meeting because if Lando feel’s like we are purposefully spending time on this, he’ll feel like he’s a burden. It’s something Alex and I have been trying to beat out of him but it’s hanging in there’, George sighed, ‘If we just do this things without any fuss it will show him that not only do we care, but it’s not a burden for him to lean on us’.

Lando stepped away from the door as he heard the chatter continue and chairs begin to move around.

He made his way quickly to the lounge, smile etched into his face and feeling light.

He rubbed at his chest as he collapsed into the first sofa he came across, but this time it wasn’t out of anxiety or panic. It was due to the warmth that filled him.

Months ago he had been told he could never achieve his dream due to his disorder, yet here was a company of people who made it seem so effortless to include his needs in their actions so he could enjoy these events just as much as they did.

He was no longer a burden or liability.

‘Hey gremlin, finally emerged from your cave?’, Max’s teasing voice drew Lando out of his thoughts as the Dutch man flopped down beside him with a smirk on his face.

Lando elbowed him in the ribs, ‘Feed me, I’m dying’.

‘Careful Verstappen, didn’t you ever see that movie about actual Gremlins?’, George teased joining them, ‘They’re cute until you feed them and then they’re just evil little things’.

‘George you knobhead, Mogwai’s become Gremlins when you feed them after midnight and Lando might be small, but he isn’t cute enough to be a Mogwai’, Alex laughed as Lando began to protest his friends teasing.

Sebastian had been right in that café months before.

His friends really were the best.

*

Despite feeling freer regarding his disorder, and having the support of his friends and co-workers, Lando still had days where he struggled with his panic.

Days where he woke with the weight on his chest crushing him and he found himself cuddled up with Charles, both of them understanding the need for safety and comfort on days where the panic was just under their skin but never broke the surface.

Lando tried to no longer be embarrassed or ashamed when he got caught unaware by his attacks. Simply accepting that while it sucked, he could get through it now that he had the proper tools and friends, he was willing to let help him.

However, there were still times like today when he was caught by surprise and away from his friends.

Lando had stepped away from small party they were holding in a downtown bar for the nominations Charles and Max had received due to their latest albums. Much like the party years ago when he ended up in the closet with Max, it was a crowd of friends and celebrities that Lando now knew by name and had talked to, yet he felt the first sign of panic grip him as he leant against the bar talking to Nico Rosberg and Lewis.

With a quick word to Lewis, who had handed him a pair of earphones and bottle of water, ruffling his hair before pointing him towards an outside area, Lando found himself gripping a railing at the back of the bars smoking area.

The cold of the metal, the soft voice from the one earbud he had placed in his ear and the cold night air were aiding with the building panic as Lando counted his breathes. He left the breeze wash away the overwhelming feeling of panic that had begun to grip.

It was starting to work, the whooshing in his ears receding and breathing returning to normal when someone called his name, startling him out of his rhythmic breathing exercise.

Much like that day he froze in the studio in front of Nicky and the photographer, Lando found himself spiralling as paparazzi that had snuck round the back began to take pictures of him, shouting out questions while his breath stuttered in his chest and his hands began to shake.

He tried to turn away, curling in on himself, wanting to go back inside but body no longer responding to reason as he found himself weighed down to the spot.

Tears pricked his eyes at the thoughts of the headlines that would make papers like the Daily Mail the next morning.

‘Hey, this is a private event, you are not allowed back here’, a voice yelled, calling for security before hands settled on Lando’s shoulders warm and reassuring.

Lando could vaguely hear the security team leading the paparazzi away, leaving him in silence.

The hands moved from his shoulder, gently placing an ear bud back in his ear before leading him to the furthest part of the smoking area where they were mostly hidden behind a weird potted plant that Lando couldn’t name but knew his mother would love.

The hands guided him to sit down before the person crouched in front of him and Lando could feel his pale cheek heating up at the sight of his crush, Carlos gazing at him softly, hand on Lando’s chest.

‘One tape for in, two for out, yes?’, Carlos smiled softly, tapping at Lando’s shoulder as the other nodded, following the taps until he felt himself settle back into his own skin, hands still trembling with exhaustion.

‘Do you want me to get Max or Charles? I think I saw George and Alex around somewhere but they might have been playing a drinking game with Nicky and the others’, Carlos rambled, running a free hand through his hair, ‘I know I am probably the last person you’d like to help you through an attack considering you don’t exactly like me…’

Later, Lando would claim the attack had fried his brain as his mouth moved faster than his brain could compute the word spilling from his lips.

‘No please don’t go, I do like, like a lot’, Lando rambled before he could stop himself, ‘I actually have a huge embarrassing crush on you on…oh my god what am I say. Please stop m’'.

Lando’s eyes widened in horror at the fact he had just blurted out the fact that he had a crush on the hot Spanish model while coming down from an attack.

Before he could panic, a warm hand landed on his cheek, brown eyes fixing on his own filled with amusement and relief.

‘I have a huge embarrassing crush on you too’, Carlos teased gently, pressing a kiss against Lando’s cheek, ‘I would kiss you now but I don’t think post panic attack would be the right time, no?’.

Lando giggled, resting his forehead against the Spaniards, unable to contain the joy and relief of finally admitting his crush and having the feelings returned.

‘Rain check on the kiss, but I would really like it if you sat with me for a while’, Lando offered, moving over on the bench and taking Carlos’s hand to pull him up beside him, entangling their fingers as they fell into an easy conversation, unable to look away from each other.

Later that night, as the party winded down and Kimi took stock of his wayward children while Sebastian fetched them a last drink before they had to load them all into taxi’s again, he caught sight of a blushing Lando Norris with his arm wrapped around Carlos Sainz JR’s waist as the Spaniard place a sweet kiss on the Britons lips.

Kimi watched in amusement as Nicky yelled ‘take a shot if Norris and Sainz get their shit together; while reaching for a vodka shot that George quickly moved out of his reach despite the pout on the Canadians face.

‘Are you going to give that one a talking to about breaking our boys heart like you did to Daniel?’, Kimi teased, and Sebastian returned to his side, handing Kimi and drink and kissing him softly.

‘Hm, I think they’ve got it covered’, Sebastian laughed, pointing back at the newly mined couple.

Currently, Lando was trying to burry his bright red face in a very nervous Spanish models shoulder as Max, Charles, George, Alex and even Lance stared the Spaniard down, obviously warning him what would happen if he hurt the younger man while Nico H. recorded the entire ordeal from where he was stood with an arm tucked around Kevin’s waist.

‘Should we save him?’, Kimi laughed, sipping from his drink as he wrapped his own arm around Sebastian’s waist, pulling him close.

‘No, let him suffer a little longer, then maybe we will stop them’, Sebastian grinned wickedly at him, watching the chaos unfold across the room.


End file.
